


Vigilance

by Sed



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Banter, First Time Bottoming, Flirting, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Secret Relationship, Shyness, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22043905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sed/pseuds/Sed
Summary: Varian has a standing appointment with an old acquaintance.
Relationships: Garrosh Hellscream/Varian Wrynn
Comments: 10
Kudos: 92
Collections: World of Warcraft Gift Exchange 2019





	Vigilance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laeviss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeviss/gifts).



> Happy holidays and merry Winter Veil! This fic isn't exactly holiday-themed, but there's definitely some giving going on.
> 
> I imagine this might need to be considered an AU, without the sha corruption to complicate things. Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts.

It was late. Varian walked the grounds of Lion’s Landing, taking his measure of the newly raised structures around him. They stood tall against the clear night sky, silent sentinels in the dark. Torchlight dotted the battlements, and guards patrolled the perimeter of the base, keeping watch for spies and saboteurs. Sharing a coast with the Horde required caution. Sharing a _world_ with them required constant vigilance. That was why he raised his arm and waved to the guards at the gate as he passed. Give them no reason to suspect anything might be amiss, no cause to question their king’s destination at such a lonely hour of the evening.

He crossed the beach and came to a stop. Here the darkness became all-encompassing, without lights to guide him. The moons had disappeared behind a scattering of clouds, and the stars, distant points of light in the vast, dark sky, provided no true illumination to reveal what might lay before him.

He wore no armor and carried no weapons. It was winter at home, but the jungle knew no such season. His long hair had half-fallen into the collar of his dark linen shirt as he cast about for some sign of another presence in the darkness. He wasn’t used to moving so silently, nor being so exposed. There was a sound; a rustling in the brush, followed by a deep, rumbling growl. Reaching for a sword that wasn’t there, Varian sneered. “Come out and face me,” he demanded.

“Face you with _what_ , exactly?” he heard a familiar voice ask.

The tension melted away, and Varian smirked. “You need a weapon to best me, Warchief?”

“I would like one.” Garrosh appeared in the sudden return of the moonlight, unarmed as Varian was, and bare but for his own leather pants and plate boots.

Varian tried to ignore the way his body heated at the sight of the orc’s broad chest and rich brown skin. His eyes traced the black tattoos scrawled across the swell of his muscles, following them until they disappeared over the rise of his shoulders. “Flatterer,” he said, aware that he sounded exactly as distracted as he was.

Garrosh chuckled, and Varian did not have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed for being so obvious about his attraction.

That was, after all, why they were meeting in the dark wilds of Krasarang.

It was wrong, of course; they were at war, each leading armies in the effort to conquer or else destroy the other. Varian had given orders just that afternoon that would result in the deaths of scores of Horde soldiers. Yet here he was, sneaking away in the night to meet the very man who should wish to see him dead.

Garrosh had noticed his appreciative gaze. He drew himself up to his full height, preening as though trying to impress a prospective mate. Varian’s body responded to the sight and he found himself shivering, too warm inside and out to be truly cold, eager for the touch he knew was coming. What he needed from this exchange.

For these few stolen hours he was not the king, and Garrosh Hellscream was not the warchief.

“Remove your clothing,” Garrosh said, speaking firmly, but without his usual contempt. “Let me see you.”

Varian reached up to blindly open the collar of his shirt. He pulled the dark blue cloth up and over his head and let it fall to the grass. He continued to meet Garrosh’s gold eyes as he stepped backwards out of his boots.

“The rest,” Garrosh urged. Was it Varian’s imagination, or did he sound just a bit breathless?

“I’m surprised you wouldn’t rather tear my clothing from my body one strip at a time,” he said. His fingers hovered over the ties at the top of his pants. “Isn’t this a bit too sedate for your tastes?”

“You know nothing of my _tastes_ ,” Garrosh growled. “Keep going.”

A hot curl of arousal flickered in Varian, and he abruptly tore open the lacing at the front of his pants. He had not bothered to wear anything underneath. Garrosh’s hungry gaze rolled down his body and came to a stop where his cock strained against the open leather. “I think I know a little something,” Varian said.

Garrosh’s eyes snapped up to meet his, and he sneered. Without warning he crossed the space between them, and the speed and power with which he moved was so unexpected that Varian couldn’t help but stumble back a step. He was not afraid of Garrosh, not here, but he was no fool either. He had never allowed himself to become complacent. Unarmed as he was, toe to toe with an orc twice his size, he couldn’t help but think of how long it had been since his days in the arena. How much smaller he really was without his armor and the army that stood at his back.

But there was also something about that disparity that he found undeniably alluring. Hands so large they could crush his skull fell upon his shoulders, sliding down his arms and taking hold of his biceps. Varian swallowed, and Garrosh leaned in to brush rough lips across the exposed skin of his throat. “You smell like me,” he whispered. “Like the last time.”

The last time they had met, Garrosh had pinned him to the jungle floor, two enormous fingers plunging into Varian over and over while he gasped and clawed at the earth. Varian had come so hard he nearly blacked out, sure he must have screamed, and then he’d taken Garrosh in his mouth and let him finish there. He hadn’t been able to swallow it all, though he’d tried his best to. He could still recall the feeling of slick heat pooling at his lips, sliding down his chin and neck.

Varian closed his eyes and let his head fall back. One of his arms was released and a rough, hot hand was thrust between his legs. He pushed into it, mouth open, panting like a beast in heat. “ _Please_.”

“Please _what_ ,” Garrosh rumbled. Sharp teeth grazed Varian’s jaw, and he heard himself whine. He couldn’t seem to care.

Swallowing to take a gulp of air, he said, “I need—I—”

“You need?” Garrosh’s palm left his aching cock and grasped Varian’s hand, drawing it to the heavy bulge at the front of his own leather pants. “You need this?” He drew out the last word in a hiss that Varian could feel against his skin.

“Y—yes,” Varian groaned. He tried to pull free of Garrosh’s hold and drop to his knees, but Garrosh sensed what he was doing and stopped him.

“Not tonight. Not this time.”

Varian’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

Garrosh laughed. “You would think that I’d said I intend to take you prisoner.” He looked down on Varian with an arrogant grin, entirely too deserved but no less galling for it. “I have other plans for you,” he said.

“Do those plans include putting your hand back on my cock any time soon?” Varian asked with an icy glare. He hid his desperation in his own audacity, glaring up into the gold eyes that narrowed dangerously at him.

For a moment Garrosh seemed as though he might not answer. Then he sighed and let his massive shoulders slump a bit. “You are annoying,” he complained.

Varian pointedly squeezed his hand around the iron length of Garrosh’s cock, still bound behind leather. It throbbed beneath his touch. “Not that annoying.”

Garrosh’s only answer was a long, low hum of agreement.

When the slow nibbling began again at the junction of his neck and shoulder, Varian asked, “What plans?” He leaned into the broad thigh that Garrosh had pressed between his legs. He could have gotten himself off that way, he thought, simply riding his lover’s thigh, rubbing against him until he came. He’d done it before. Garrosh had enjoyed it then, too.

“I’m going to take you tonight,” Garrosh said.

Varian froze. The words echoed in his mind, in Garrosh’s voice, and without thinking he started to pull away. “I don’t—you wouldn’t be able to—” He was too caught up in his sudden panic to worry that he sounded like a blushing virgin. Though, he supposed, at least in this case, he was.

“I can.” Garrosh reached back to some pouch on his belt and produced a crystal vial. “I will.”

Varian had never been taken by another man before. He’d also never told Garrosh that. Given the nature of their activities as far back as Northrend, he had never seen a need to. It always seemed to be understood that Garrosh was simply too large to penetrate him safely. That was what he assumed, anyway. “You’re too big,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You’ve taken me in your mouth.”

“That’s different, Garrosh!” Varian knew he was blushing, and he at least had the presence of mind to be furious with himself for it.

“You want this as much as I do.”

“Even if that were true—” which it was, he thought with a frown, “—I don’t think… Garrosh, I’ve never…” Humiliated, Varian let his head fall in defeat. His hair cascaded over his shoulder, covering Garrosh’s fingers where they were still wrapped around his arm.

“No one has ever had you before?” Garrosh asked. He sounded surprised. It was not something Varian was used to hearing in his voice.

He clenched his teeth and snarled. “If you intend to mock me—”

“I have no intention of doing any such thing.” The fingers on his bicep uncurled, and Varian abruptly found himself wrapped in a strangely tender embrace. He felt the cold metal of Garrosh’s lip rings caress his ear. Lips that felt too hot by comparison grazed the same skin, making him shiver. “It would be an honor to take you first. To give you that pleasure, and take my own where no other man has had you.”

It shouldn’t have made his body melt the way it did, hearing those words from his enemy. But if he knew anything of Garrosh Hellscream, it was that he said exactly what he meant; if he promised pleasure, he would deliver on it. He always had before. Varian heard himself hissing “ _Yes_ ,” without meaning to, but once the permission had been granted he found that he had no desire to withdraw it again.

Garrosh growled possessively in his ear, his strong arms pulled Varian off his feet, and the world upended as he was suddenly borne to the ground on his back. The landing was softer than he would have expected, cradled in Garrosh’s arms as he was. It was strange to be treated so tenderly after all the years of meeting for quick, filthy trysts wherever they could find an hour’s privacy. Here he lay on the soft grass, the stars hanging overhead, and Garrosh’s massive form a dark shape between them.

Varian was not the sort of man to be shy, but he found himself unable to meet Garrosh’s eyes as the orc finally drew his pants down past his thighs, pulling them from his legs and exposing him to a hungry gold gaze. Garrosh’s palms traveled up his shins and over his knees, ghosted over his thighs and came to a stop at his hips. He nudged Varian onto his belly without a word, and Varian silently obeyed.

Garrosh was kneeling over his legs, and Varian tried not to think of what he could do from such a position. He listened as Garrosh shed the last of his own clothing. “Be careful,” he warned.

“I will not harm you,” Garrosh reassured him. It did little to calm Varian’s racing heart, but he nodded and laid his head down on the grass regardless.

His hips were lifted and a part of him almost expected to be pulled onto Garrosh’s cock without warning, but it never happened. Instead, he felt a warm, wet tongue on his backside. “Garrosh!” he gasped. He’d been pleasured that way before, but never by surprise; Varian bucked his hips and fisted tufts of grass. He writhed and spread his legs, pushing back onto Garrosh’s tongue, desperate for more. “Gar— _ah!_ ”

“Beg me for my fingers, Varian,” Garrosh ordered. Still so quiet, so gentle compared to how he spoke when there were others around to witness any exchange. “Tell me what it is you want next.”

Varian turned his face into the grass to hide his shame. “Put them in me,” he said, wanton and breathless, “put them in me, please.”

“Put _what_ in you.”

He huffed, frustrated. “Your fingers—Garrosh, please!”

Another lick, this one slow and purposeful. Varian made a sound he’d never heard himself make, and twisted to look back over his shoulder. His hair had fallen over his eyes, but he could still see well enough. “Give me your fingers,” he rasped.

Garrosh grinned, his tattooed skin curling at the corners of his mouth. He reached for the vial, lying by his clothing in the grass, and upended it onto his hand. Varian turned away before he felt the first touch of strong, broad fingers between his legs. He had never admitted to Garrosh how much he loved the way those fingers felt inside him. How right it was, how deeply, achingly satisfying. After all, it was just supposed to be sex.

After so many years the push of his fingers was familiar, and Varian quickly lost himself to the sensation. Garrosh always began with one, but never took very long to add a second. He worked Varian open, slick fingers curling inside him, touching him where he knew it would feel best. Varian fought to keep from pushing back and taking more, knowing this was not the final act. Not tonight.

He knew when Garrosh leaned over him, heard the heavy breath in his ear and felt the hot, wet head of his cock as it dragged along the back of his thigh. It _felt_ massive. Panic threatened to overwhelm him again, and Varian tensed against it. The fingers moving inside him stilled.

“You’re afraid,” Garrosh said.

Varian tried to laugh, but it came out as a choked sound, instead. “Hardly.”

“I can be gentle.”

That _did_ make him laugh. “Nothing in your life has ever shown you to be capable of such mercy.”

Garrosh was quiet, and for a moment Varian worried he’d gone too far. They often needled one another, made crass and even rude comments as they were tumbling about on the ground, or in the snow, even on the dirt floor of a cave once or twice. Most of it had been in jest, and never intended to do any real harm. This was different, and they both knew it.

Instead of arguing, instead of becoming angry or even leaving, Garrosh only sat up. His fingers began moving again, more slowly this time. He withdrew them just enough to pour more of the oil, and resumed his careful ministrations.

Varian swallowed the apology that weighed down his tongue. He made himself relax, and focused only on the sounds of the night around them. When Garrosh withdrew his fingers and reached for the vial again, Varian bit his lip.

He could hear Garrosh slicking himself up, oiling his cock in preparation to drive it deep inside Varian’s body. A part of him was desperate for it. Wanted nothing more than to be split open and filled until he couldn’t take any more. The rest of him was trembling, inside and out. He had never been so nervous. Not even in the face of certain death. “Garrosh,” he whispered.

“Trust me,” Garrosh said. A strange request from such a dangerous man.

One hand held Varian’s hips, lifting them off the ground, while the other lined his cock up to Varian’s ass. He felt the sheer width of the head between his cheeks and held his breath.

“Relax.”

“That’s—” he huffed, blowing grass and his own hair away from his face, “—easy for you to say!”

But he did relax, at least as much as he could manage under the circumstances. He felt the head of Garrosh’s cock spread him open as it pushed inside.

“That’s it,” Garrosh murmured, “good. Open up for me.”

Varian’s own erection had softened when Garrosh first began to penetrate him, but now it swelled again, dragging against the grass beneath him and driving him mad. It seemed to be taking forever for Garrosh to fit the whole of his cock inside. He reached back and tried to put a hand on Garrosh’s hip. “More—” He grunted. His fingernails scratched across hot skin. “ _More_.”

There was pain, but nothing like he had expected. It was easing slowly, just as it had the first time Garrosh had used his fingers, with Varian bent over an old stone bench in a dark corner of Crystalsong. He knew it would soon fade away almost entirely.

He felt Garrosh’s hips settle against his backside, and realized that he had finally reached the end of his incredible length. Varian took a deep breath, just to see what it was like. _Difficult_. He felt full, complete. His cock leaked onto the ground beneath him, and he took quick, shallow breaths. His legs were spread as wide as they could go, and yet it still didn’t seem to be enough.

“Is this gentle enough?” Garrosh asked. He let go of Varian’s hips and bent down to cover him with his own body. Varian felt the heat of Garrosh’s skin against his back, and a pang of arousal rolled through him like a wave.

“Move,” Varian said, swallowing. “Please.”

“Did I not promise you pleasure?” Garrosh pulled back and drove forward again. “Next time you will _beg_ for me to fill you.”

 _Next time_. Light, he had barely begun _this_ time. Yet Varian found himself relishing the prospect of doing it again. His apprehension had faded entirely, and his body cried out for more. He wanted to feel Garrosh thrusting hard into him, pinning him to the ground with his weight.

He got his wish when Garrosh brought his forearms up to rest on the ground beside Varian’s head and began to plunge his cock deep, one long, slow slide after another. He was grunting and snarling, speaking words in Orcish that Varian barely understood. With every stroke he seemed to lose himself in his own pleasure, taking Varian along with him. Soon he was slamming his hips against the body beneath his and pushing Varian hard against the earth with every thrust.

“Tell me how it feels,” Garrosh said. He shoved hard, just once. “Tell me how it feels to have me inside you, Varian.”

The friction of the grass and the weight of Garrosh bearing him down onto it, the unbelievable fullness he felt, was all too much; Varian came with a strangled shout, uselessly pumping his hips as he spent himself against the ground. He felt Garrosh’s movements falter for only a few seconds, and then all at once his thrusts became faster, shallower. He panted heavily against the back of Varian’s head, his heavy balls slapping against Varian’s thighs and ass as he closed in on his own climax.

It struck Varian then that Garrosh meant to come inside him.

He groaned, letting his forehead fall to the grass. “ _Yes_ ,” he hissed, “ _please—!_ ”

Garrosh roared and slammed down on him, buried as deep as he could go. His arms came around Varian’s shoulders and his hips jerked restlessly. He filled Varian one pulse after another, until it seemed impossible that it could go on any longer. Distantly Varian recalled trying to hold it all in his mouth and failing, and he imagined his body trying to do the same now. He wondered how much of it would spill back out this time.

It went on for what seemed like forever, and yet it was over almost too soon; Garrosh sagged against him for just a few seconds, and Varian held his breath. When he lifted his hips and pulled out there was a rush of warmth that followed. Varian made a choked sound and felt his cock give a halfhearted throb as Garrosh rolled to the side and fell onto the open grass on his back.

Varian brought his arms up and folded them under his head. He turned to watch Garrosh beside him, and caught sight of something unexpected. “You’re still hard,” he said, gingerly pushing himself up onto his knees. He wasn’t not sore, but he could hardly complain.

Garrosh lifted his head just enough to look down at himself. He shrugged and fell back again. “It happens.”

It had never happened before. In all the times they had been together—and Varian had long ago lost count of what that number was—Garrosh had never remained hard after they were through.

He pushed himself up on shaking legs and carefully stepped over Garrosh, lowering himself down until he could straddle his waist. Garrosh arched one bald brow and said nothing as Varian leaned forward, pressing his lips to Garrosh’s chin, his throat, his collar. He kissed him down to the center of his chest and then moved back again until he could feel Garrosh’s cock against his cleft.

“Feeling sentimental, Wrynn?”

Varian shook his head. His hair swayed against his back. “Thanking you.”

That seemed to surprise Garrosh almost as much as finding out that Varian had never been taken before. “Why?” he asked.

Rather than answer right away, Varian lifted himself up and reached down to take hold of Garrosh’s lingering erection. He sank down slowly, carefully, until he was seated atop his hips, sheathed around his cock. For a few breathless seconds he wondered if it had been a good idea to try for a second time his _first_ time. If he’d felt full before, he was absolutely stuffed now. He put his hands flat on Garrosh’s stomach and lifted himself just a bit. “For keeping your word,” he said, the last word ending in a whine he couldn’t help. “For being so gentle.”

Garrosh reached up and took hold of Varian’s hips; muscular legs came up behind his back and suddenly the work of moving up and down on Garrosh’s cock became much less of a burden.

“You doubted me?”

Varian scoffed, threw his head back and sighed as the pleasure mounted. Garrosh had been right: he would beg for more of this. He was half hard again already. “Of course I did.”

With an amused grunt, a bounce of Garrosh’s hips sent Varian tumbling forward, and he landed sprawled across the broad chest beneath him. Garrosh’s arms wrapped around him to hold him there, and he smirked. Their faces were mere inches apart. “Perhaps you aren’t the fool you seem,” Garrosh said. He slowly pushed up into Varian, holding his gaze the whole time.

Varian’s mouth fell slack and he pressed it to Garrosh’s, tasting his scent, his sweat, letting his lips trace the shape of the furrows that marked his brown skin. A slow smile crept across his own scarred face. “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” he said, closing his teeth on Garrosh’s lower lip. “After all, I am still here with you.”


End file.
